


Garden of Paradise

by MisterPseudonymous



Series: Tales of Thera [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Mythology - Freeform, Somewhat prequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-09 21:53:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6924856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisterPseudonymous/pseuds/MisterPseudonymous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the Garden, gods walk among humans, giving all that is needed.</p><p>But in the Garden, Belal and her demon journey to find the edge of the world—the end of Paradise. In their hearts, a seed of desire is born, and the relation of gods and humanity is forever, irrevocably changed.</p><p>The Garden will never be the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Belal

She walked, a crudely constructed spear of wood and bone loosely in her hand. Warm, dry winds tousled and knotted her dark hair. She walked and did not know why.

The Garden was but an arid wasteland... It gave her no motivation to wander. So Belal decided to reach where land and sky meet and then return to the others.

She walked.

****__  
niya sathnil-ka genhin gisa-rim  
niya sathnil-ka tenhin-rim  
genhin-ka olkav-rim  
deka akavhin-ka niya tenhin-rim  
ath'belal-ka ipil sepiv-rim 


	2. The Demon

She always looked ahead, toward the edge that all were forbidden to touch. To avert her gaze would be to lose sight of her first resolve. If she lost it, would it return? Would she care? The thought scared Belal more than never realizing her goal.

Her flesh crawled in the most unpleasant, novel of ways. Before there was time to comprehend the consequences, she glanced over her shoulder for but a fraction of a moment. Something was in her shadow, mirroring her footsteps.

"Is-it-delicious?" It spoke in a loud, mewling voice, in tones that no human uttered—as if every word was meant to be three or more, but the creature had not the time to speak them all.

It was not human.

It was not a god.

Thus, it was a demon. For nothing else existed in the Garden.

Only gods required perpension and attention. Belal paid the demon no mind. The longing in her heart burned with more feeling than she could ever attempt to describe. And of that, she was glad the creature did not cause her to lose it.

She looked ahead and walked.

  
ath'belal-ka ipil telni desa-rim  
babwe-ka hi-rim  
joo-ka golgi-varim  
athi'belal-ka ipil telni desa-rim


	3. Belal's Creature

No matter how long she ignored the demon's question, it always asked. She was troubled—troubled by thoughts, by her adherent, by a sense of dread she failed to understand.

"Is-it-delicious?"

"What is?" For the first time since Belal left the gods, she stopped. What had she done?

Prodded by her finally answering, the demon skipped around her bare feet. "The-place-you-are-going."

"Why would it be?" Her sin could not be undone, thus she had no reason to not speak anymore.

"Everything-eats. Little-ones-eaten-by-big-ones. Big-ones-eaten-by-bigger-ones. And-biggest-one-eats-everything!"

She started walking, unable to fathom what the demon was saying. Undeterred, he spoke on, "What-is-your-name?"

Belal opened her mouth to state that she has no name, but she did. She always had a name, but why? Names have no meaning for the gods are near. Where did it come from? Who gave it to her. "Belal. What is yours?"

She needed a distraction, the questions in her mind frightened her to the core.

"... I-do-not-have-one. I-am-Belal's!"

So they walked together—to the distance ever beyond reach. Belal and her demon. _Belal and Bat'Belal_.

joo-ka niya ath'belal nilthiel-rim  
jotha-ka bahnse-ba-rim  
babwe-ka hi-rim  
joo-ka golgi-varim  
babwe-ka bat'belal-rim  
elathes-ka ipil niya yol-rim


	4. Bones

Belal could only walk while using her spear as a crutch. Though she took short rests in her journey, her strength did not return. She collapsed to the ground, and the edge of the sky seemed no closer.

Her demon pranced and rolled around her, not suffering from the same languor. “Belal-is-hungry!”

“Why would I be?” When with the others, she never felt hunger. Not even once. 

The two tailed cat pawed at her stomach. “Will-get-delicious-thing!”

As her demon ran off, Belal lost consciousness. Surreally, visions of a different world filtered through her mind. Blades of—what was the word—grass crunched beneath her bare feet. She fell to her knees and ran her hands through the grass, cold and moist with dew.

For as far as she could see, life and color permeated the vast plains. Nostalgia panged at her heart. Surely, the true Garden sprawled before her eyes.

Reclaiming her spear, Belal, or rather the Belal in the dream, knew the need to hunt…

Then her demon woke her, licking at her face. He offered her a chunk of meat and flesh, of which she gorged earnestly. “It tastes awful, but I thank you, my creature.”

His elongated ears lowered. “Big-ones-seem-to-like-this.”

Carefully, he lifted a skull containing precious water with his tails. Belal drank fully, immediately feeling much invigorated. As she motioned to discard the impromptu bowl, she froze. Turning the skull, she ran her fingers across the bone, the eye sockets.

Realization dawned on her. “This was a person like me.”

“Big-ones-eat-much.” Her demon rolled on the baked, dry earth once more.

“Do you eat as well?” She gripped her spear, her knuckles white from the force.

“No-need-eat.” He halted, perhaps sensing her tension. “Big-ones-no-need-eat-too.”

Belal sighed with relief. She gently stroked the cat-like creature on his head. “Good boy.”

At first, she took a step toward the sky, but stared down at the bleached skull, lingering. “Can you… take me to where you found this?”

“Yes!” Her demon rolled and tumbled around her before leading her, bouncing with each step.

The Garden, still arid and much a wasteland, contained none of the life she saw in her dream or delusion. However, she began to see more bones the farther she went. Until the pair came upon a veritable mountain of death.

Some fragmented skeletons shone pristine, whereas others more bloody and discarded. The bones of people and animals—animals whose names faltered on the tip of her tongue—stacked high. Piled everywhere, like scraps left from an unquenchable feast.

“I must return.”

The sky be damned, Belal needed to see the truth with her eyes.

  
yolth-ka ulan-rim  
niya nilthiel-ka belal-rim 


	5. Belal's Fury

The journey back to her people, to her god, felt neverending. Belal imagined the countless dead beneath her feet. Slender rocks, akin to cadaverous digits reaching out, nauseated her.

She vomited unceremoniously. Her creature, not knowing how to comfort the woman, merely rubbed against her ankles. Wiping away the remnant bile with the back of her shaking hand, she asked, voice equally aquiver, “Are the Big Ones gods?”

He tilted his head, eyes wide and addled.

“Do people walk with the Big Ones?”

“Little-ones-follow-big-ones. Big-ones-eat-little-ones. Bigger-ones-eat-big-ones. Biggest-one—”

“—eats everything.” Her paltry spear broke in her grasp, and her hand bled from sizeable splinters.

“Yes!” he tumbled and purred. “I-no-eat!”

Again, she scratched his long ears. “Good boy.”

So they walked together, as they have been. She gradually pulled out splinters that once comprised her unused weapon. It distracted her; the pain kept her mind from wandering too close to darker thoughts—of trying to remember a life before the gods… of remembering a life _with_ the gods.

Her steps wavered as she approached them, towering above her—towering above each other—feasting wantonly. In her very bones, she knew such beings had no hunger to slate. Yet they consumed her fellows and their own kin with no regard, no reason. 

Belal screamed at those depraved aberrations, yet her voice fell short. The gods reclined, slouched grotesquely obese as her kith flocked like chattel to be devoured, blind to the horrors before their unseeing, euphoric eyes.

Once, Belal’s eyes contained an equally bovine quality. 

She trembled and collapsed to the barren ground, screaming and bemoaning humanity all the while. Her voice alone could never reach their fell ears.

And thus she ululated with the cries of legion dead. Of children, of men, of women, of beast. Of lives cut short for no reason. Through her mouth, they wailed in sorrow and fury.

The carousal ceased; all eyes bore witness to Belal rising—nay floating—and bitter tears streaking her dark face.

With merciless clarity, the voices shouted, whispered, and declared, “Ye gods partook of our flesh and lives, hence thy flesh and lives must oblige. No longer can ye gods harm us. No longer can ye walk amongst us sans our sufferance.”

A sword formed, fashioned and forged from the bones of the dead, dwarfing even the largest god. It sliced through the Biggest One, even as the voices cried out, “Ye leave. Ye repent. Or ye cease.”

As the Biggest One split in twain, bloody and surely killed, the gods fled, breaking the lands in their wake.

And the Garden of Paradise would never be the same.

akavh-ka gijot-rim  
ul’sathnil tenhin-ka nnhati-rim


	6. The Literal Translation

In the garden, all is calm.  
In the garden, paradise.  
All is well  
because gods are in paradise.  
The Woman Belal walks away.  
The Woman Belal walks to the sky.  
The Demon speaks.  
“Is it tasty?”  
She walks to the sky.  
Something is in the woman Belal's heart.  
There is no name.  
The Demon speaks.  
“Is It tasty?”  
The Demon is Belal's.  
Together they walk in sin.  
The Sinners return.  
In their heart, jealousy.  
God is cut down.  
The Garden of Paradise withers.


End file.
